The Prisoner(s)
by JoeMerl
Summary: "You know, I WANT to get to the Yeerk pool. You didn't have to tie me up." A fairly pointless one-shot about one Yeerk/human pair at the end of the war.


My name is Othril-Five-Two-Four, of the Hett Simplat pool.

I am a Yeerk. You know, a member of the species that just tried unsuccessfully to conquer your planet.

And truth be told, I was still having a hard time processing the fact that we'd lost. Like... _really?_ Against the _humans,_ before the Andalites even showed up to help them? No offense, but you guys don't even particle-wave weapons. Man, Visser Three (or One, whatever) was going to go down in history as the worst general ever. You'd think that a guy psychotic enough to eat half of his support staff would at least know how to defeat six Andalite bandits. Or Animorphers or whatever they were going by these days.

But lost we had, and that put us Yeerks in a serious predicament. Especially if you only had a few hours left to get some Kandrona rays.

All the news shows and websites were giving contradictory information, but supposedly the human military was willing to spare any Yeerk who surrendered peacefully; some reports even said that we would be allowed to morph into humans. This sounded a _lot_ better than a slow and horrible death by starvation, so I did the only rational thing that I could: told my host's mom and sister the truth and asked them to drive me downtown.

They took the news...poorly.

"You know, I _want_ to get to the Yeerk pool. You didn't have to tie me up."

"Be quiet!" Amber snapped.

"I'm just saying—"

" _Stop it!_ Both of you!" Mom (well, Kyle's mom) yelled from the front seat; they were the same words that she would have used if we were fighting on a long road trip, though her voice was on the edge of hysteria.

I sighed, sank into the backseat and squirmed slightly in the ropes that bound me. I glanced out the window; the traffic was still moving at a snail's pace. I wondered, vaguely, if this was one of the last sights that I would ever see.

Meanwhile, in our shared head, Kyle was stewing.

((I should have known it would end this way. I should have known that you'd subject me to one last _amazing_ indignity.))

((Shut up. It's not my fault they hogtied us.))

(( _Yes, it is, Othril!_ This is all your fault! _Everything_ that has happened to me for the last _year_ is completely, _totally_ your fault! _MAN_ I can't wait until I finally have my own body back.))

I glanced over at the radio clock in the front seat and squirmed uncomfortably again.

((Well, you'll be getting that soon. One way or another.))

Kyle gave a thought-speak scoff. ((They _should_ have just waited for you to die at home.))

He said this with some pointed sarcasm. See, those conflicting reports I mentioned? They knew that us Yeerks died if we stayed in our hosts for too long, but couldn't quite agree on when or how it happened—one day, three days, a week? And some of them claimed that if this actually happened to a Controller, the human host would die too.

I _may_ have encouraged Kyle's family to believe that last part.

((To be fair, this _is_ safer for you. Some hosts get neurological problems from Yeerks dying in their head. Mostly if we're not able to completely disengage in time.))

Kyle fell back into stony silence, as usually happened whenever we had a fight.

"...Is it a bad time to say that I have to go to the bathroom?"

"OH MY GOSH, DO YOU _EVER_ SHUT UP?!"

Mom was shaking her head as we finally got the chance to move a full foot. "Everything seemed to be going so _well,_ " she murmured. "His grades were up, he was being more social, more polite—"

"Aw, thanks, Mom."

" _I wasn't talking to you, you_ —whatever it is they call you." She turned back to glare at the road. "Stop calling me 'Mom!' I know you're not my son!"

"Well— _no,_ but that's what Kyle calls you, so it kind of just comes naturally—"

"BE QUIET! Just—be quiet until you're out of my son's head and I have my _real_ little boy back!"

I clamped my mouth shut. I have to admit that I was kind of hurt.

((Seriously?))

((Well, yeah. I like your mom.))

((Othril, you are just—you don't even understand _why_ we don't like you, do you? You don't think that you've done _anything_ wrong!))

I glared down at our feet. ((Hey, Mom and Amber _do_ like me—they've liked me _fine_ since the day we met. They didn't even realize I wasn't you until I told them!))

((Yes, they did. They got suspicious as soon as your stupid invasion went public.))

((Yeah, but still. And why _are_ you so mad at me, anyway? Has our time together really been so bad? I've listened to the music that you like, seen the movies that you wanted to see—I even went on a few dates with Julia Butler, even though I still say that she is _totally_ wrong for you.))

((The reason I'm mad is because I didn't _actually_ go out with Julia! You did! _You_ were the one talking to my family, _you_ were the one deciding what we got to do, _you_ were the one who _stole my life_ and kept me from it for the last year! Ugh, why do I even bother?))

Just then, someone knocked on Kyle's mom's window—it was a soldier, telling us there was no way to get the car any closer to the building so we had to head out on foot.

"I don't suppose you're going to untie me for the rest of the way? ...No? Darn."

Kyle's mom led the way with Amber behind, hands on my shoulders—probably to keep me from escaping, but it did make it easier to walk with my arms pinned to my side. A very large crowd had gathered in front of the community center that served as the main entrance to this city's Yeerk pool; the Army was in control of the building now, and soldiers moved through the crowd, trying to keep things in order. I saw Controllers like me, apparent captors of police or random citizens, while others seemed to be standing my themselves. Everyone in the line looked jumpy.

"Excuse me!" Kyle's mom said as one of them passed. "My son—"

"Sorry, ma'am, you just have to wait your turn—hey, HEY!"

One old man behind us had suddenly fallen to the ground, spasming madly; many people screamed, and soon three soldiers had dragged him away.

"What was that?!" Amber gasped, looking from the place the man had been lying to her mother and then, nervously, to me. "A heart attack?" The look on her face made it clear that she was considering another possibility.

((Probably a Controller in the last stages of starvation,)) I confirmed, to Kyle. ((Poor guy.))

Kyle gave another silent scoff, but I knew that he felt my fear, and to my surprise, I could feel that he didn't _actually_ want me to die, either. That made me smile.

((Don't read too much into it,)) he grumbled. ((And you know, you're not the only one in danger here.))

((What do you mean?))

((I mean, what are they going to do with _me,_ anyway? You don't know that they're going to just let you crawl out and then send me home. What if they plan to line us against a wall and shoot us, just to be safe?))

I actually hadn't thought of that. I bit my lip; it was a nervous habit that Kyle had had long before I met him.

"Hey," a soldier said, giving me a quick look. "Is this one of them?"

"Yes. He's my son. He has one of those— _things_ —no, please be gentle—!"

Another soldier had come up with a knife and roughly away my ropes (lightly cutting my/Kyle's side in the process). As soon as my arms were free they made me spread them apart and began to pat me down thoroughly.

"I don't have any weapons, if that's what you're thinking. I'm an engineer, we don't get issued—"

((Othril? Do you _really_ think that they care?))

Once they were done they forced my poor, sore arms behind my back and handcuffed them.

"No—please! That's my son, what are you—?!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this is for everyone's safety! We will get your son back to you as soon as we know that he's safe!"

I turned my head back and tried to meet her and Amber's panicked eyes. "Don't worry, Kyle will be fine!" I said, trying to believe it. "And it was really nice knowing you, by the way!"

The soldiers led us roughly away; both kept their guns drawn. We were brought past a barricade to the front door of the community center, which was already congested with other soldiers leading other Controllers inside.

((How much time do you have left, anyway?))

((Barely more than an hour. I'm going to start going through the fugue soon. That won't be pleasant for _either_ of us.))

Suddenly, I heard gunfire from inside the building. Kyle and I both jumped. I felt Kyle's fear grow.

((What was that?!))

I had no answer, but I swallowed hard.

I turned our head back to address the soldier behind me. "Hey, uh...are you really gonna let my host body go back with his family?"

"What?! You don't think we're gonna let you just crawl back into him, do you?"

"No, I mean—just for the record, my host didn't really _want_ to be infested or anything. Not really. Like, even if you're lying about letting us Yeerks live, I'll come out willingly! You don't have to shoot him or anything like that. So...just don't hurt him, okay? He's my friend."

The soldier just stared blankly, as did the one in front of me.

The crowd had cleared enough that we could move into the building now; the soldier behind me shook his head, then jabbed my back with the butt of his gun. "Just...keep moving, kid. _Alien._ Whatever."

As we walked, I could feel Kyle stirring in the back of our head. He was trying to shield his thoughts from me.

((What?)) I asked.

((You are the _lamest_ evil alien whom I have ever had the displeasure of being enslaved to,)) he said. ((And you probably just made it so they'll suspect me _more._ ))

Somehow, I couldn't help but sense a lot of gratitude in his words. I smiled again.

((You're welcome.))

((Yeah, well..don't pat yourself on the back too much. If they _do_ kill me, it's still your fault,)) he muttered.


End file.
